


Raining Drabble

by remanth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, raining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10299077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: Dean, Cas, and Sam pass a quiet day in the bunker





	

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble was inspired by this post --> http://samwellwinchesterthebrave.tumblr.com/post/158386451425/rainy-day-in-the-bunker-supernatural-ambience and the tags I wrote on it.

It was a quiet day. For once, nothing demanded their immediate attention. Heaven and Hell were both keeping to themselves, there were no weird deaths or signs, and everyone was safe in the bunker. A thunderstorm raged outside, which only made the place feel that much warmer and cozier.

The sound of rain filled the bunker. It was nice and filled the silence that usually dominated the place. Or arguments, which happened frequently. Living with a brother often made for arguments. But not today. All three of them, Sam, Dean, and Cas, were all full from lunch. Dean had done something nigh miraculous with their burgers and he’d made homemade fries.

While their bellies were still full, they’d all headed off to their own pursuits. Sam grabbed his laptop and a mug of coffee and sat at a table. The sound of keys and the mouse button clicking joined the rain beating down on the bunker. Steam swirled up from the mug that Sam took a swig from every once in a while. And instead of looking through police reports and articles, he was just playing around on the internet. A winding path had taken him to a Wikipedia article about nocturnal plants.

Dean was stretched out on a couch in the corner of the room. It wasn’t long enough to fit him completely and his legs draped up and over the arm. At least until Cas joined him. Then his legs were draped over Cas’s lap. Dean didn’t even stir when Cas moved his legs, didn’t even gasp. His instincts told him he was safe, even in his deep sleep, and he allowed Cas to reposition his legs. Every once in a while, he let out a deep snore.

Cas was thrilled at the chance to read for a while. He had a book and a mug of tea on the table next to him. Sam had loaned him his copy of The Hobbit. He’d been meaning to read the book for a while now yet something always seemed to get in the way. The book was dog-eared and ragged, evidence of being well-read and well-loved. The sound of pages turning joined the clicking of keys and snoring. One hand held the book while the other rested on Dean’s legs. And if his thumb stroked over Dean’s skin a few times were his pants had slid up his ankle, well that was all fine too.

Time passed in that slow, liquid way it does on Sundays, when you know nothing is urgent and nothing is ahead of you. It was just there, time spent on things you wanted to do. Things you wanted for yourself. All three were enclosed in a bubble of rain and silence, filled with quiet calm.


End file.
